Discordant Harmony
by Flip Girl
Summary: Hermione struggles to accept the fact that it is her final year in school, and that everything has already begun to change. Can her friendship with Ron and Harry stand against it all? Can she find within herself the strength to stand up to Draco? *UPDATED
1. Fly Me to the Moon

I don't own any rights to Harry Potter, I did not creature any of the characters, place names (cept for London and Yorkshire and Kings Cross, I didn't create those ither, but neither did JK Rowling) or magic spells or any other things, you all know JK Rowling did. Worship her as I do.  
  
Light streamed in the window, specks of dust sparkling infront of the curtains. She had layed awake most of the night, apprehension curled tight and uncomfortable in her stomach. Today would be the last time she ever went to Hogwarts as a student. This probably wouldn't have been so hard on her, if she hadn't been chosen as Head Girl. As pleased as she was, Hermione also felt some sadness lodging in her throat. She wouldn't enjoy her final year, not like the other years. She had so many responsibilities now. Not that she didn't want them, but she still knew this would be the last time she would live what she had become so familiar with, and she wanted every second to spend cramming information into her brain and spending time with Ron and Harry. Even though they had grown up over the years, their friendship had never changed. They would always be best friends. Of course, lately there had been extensions to their group. Harry and Cho had finally gotten over their issues and had become an item. Ron had found other outlets for his interests, after his brothers had left school he had taken up the position of one of the beaters on the Gryffindor team, he'd become a real whiz at wizard's chess and he, Seamus and Dean had become the new prankster team. Hermione only had Crookshanks and her books. But the ginger tabby had slowed down over the years, he preferred to remain in the Gryffindor Tower and the adjacent hallways, his old legs getting weary easily. Two years ago, he and Mrs Norris had had a run in, leaving Filch's cat with a torn ear and Crookshanks with a permanent strained leg.  
  
Speaking of Crookshanks, he was puttering lightly somewhere around Hermione's ankle. Dazed, she pulled herself out of her thoughts and glanced at the clock beside her bed. She should be getting up soon. She could already smell the toast cooking downstairs, and soon her father would be banging on the door with a light-hearted "Are you decent? I'll take your trunk out to the car now." just like every year. The last time he would ever do it. So many things were changing for her. Curling herself into a ball, Hermione rolled onto her side to face the stack of books she couldn't fit into her trunk. What would she do after school ended? She had so many opportunities, so many offers from various departments in the Ministry. But things would be different. Her, Harry and Ron would probably end up going their separate ways. Could she really stand that kind of a change? Too much had changed already.  
  
Soon enough, that familiar knock on her door came, and her father poked his smiling face in. His eyes were still as bright and filled with pride as they had always been, even though there were more lines around them now, a tinge of gray in his hair. He had gotten older. And so had she. Forcing a smile, Hermione gently kicked Crookshanks off of her bed and she sat up. "Yes dad. Is mum downstairs?" she asked absently as she grabbed her clothes, holding the mass of fabric infront of her chest while her father took her luggage from her room. He never used to grunt like that when he lifted the trunk, but now either it was heavier, or he was weaker. She knew which it really was.  
  
Twenty minutes later, Hermione was down in the kitchen munching on her toast, no jam, of course, her parents being dentists and all that, whilst joking lightly with her father on where to pin her Head Girl badge. He wanted her to attach it to her forehead where everyone would see it. She entertained the idea for a while, but finally beat him down by saying it would probably get in the way when she was trying to study, and he finally agreed the front of her robes would be the best place for it.  
  
"Oh, dear, look at the time!" Hermione's mother spurted, quickly shutting off the element on the oven she was just about to cook some bacon over. "We've been joking around for half an hour already. We have to get going!"  
  
And then it was a rush to get everything packed into the car and off to London. With her parents in the front seat, Hermione took the silence happily as she stared out the car window, houses and fields rushing by. Sometimes she found it funny how she could slide from one world to the other so easily. But when she graduated, which would she choose to live in? She couldn't keep leading such a double life, a witch all school year, a normal girl for the summer would not be an option anymore. Maybe she would take up Dumbledore's offer of becoming a professor at the school, then she could still pretend it was like old times. ... But it would never be. Harry and Ron, those two who were part of her very soul, would go their own ways. She knew they probably felt just as torn as she did. But when she saw them, she would not bring it up. This pain was personal, this pain would only get in the way of their final days together as students, and she wanted to enjoy it no matter what, no matter who tried to hurt them. And that thought brought her mind around to Malfoy and his goons. At least there was one good thing about being in their final year, she would never have to deal with him again. And maybe now that she was Head Girl he would feel a little more intimidated and wouldn't attack her so much. No, he'd probably go after Ron or Harry instead, and while he only threw words at her, he threw spells at him. She wouldn't take it this year. If he even looked at her funny, she would take off all the points she possibly could, she would send him to detention, she would do everything within her Head Girl powers to make him miserable and to keep her and her best friends happy and safe.  
  
"Hermione dear, we're here. Hermione?" Her father had opened the car door for her and was leaning in, a worried crease on his forehead. "You look so determined. Is everything okay?" She pulled on a bright smile and nodded, which instantly brought a grin to her father's face as he held out his elbow to her. "Here you are my lady, I will be your escort for this morning. Bell girl, please get the bags." he playfully ordered his wife, who settled her hands on her hips and fixed him with a look. She looks so much like me. No, Hermione told herself, I look so much like her.  
  
On Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Hermione threw her arms around her parents together. "I love you mum, dad. I'll miss you." Her mother's hand lightly stroked her hair, her father, suddenly stern, leaned down to her.  
  
"We love you too, Hermione. Whatever decisions you make for your life this year, we will support and love you always. Now, be good, and don't study too much." he planted a kiss on her cheek, and she hugged them both tightly. She was as tall as her mother now, and nearly as tall as her father. When had that happened? She had noticed everyone else growing up, but she never really saw it in herself. Ron had grown so tall she often compared him to Hagrid, though he was still slender. Not skinny, no, he had tight muscles that were hidden well under those silly jumpers he always wore. Harry had grown a bit too, though he had more grown out instead of up. His shoulders and chest had widened and, much to Hermione's annoyance, grown into a very handsome man. She didn't mind him being handsome, no, he would always be her best friend, but she often had to contend with Cho for his attention, and had to listen to the Gryffindor girls rattle on about how cute he was. Especially Ginny. That girl was officially obsessed with Harry now, Especially since the event in their second year when he had saved her life. Things had gotten much more complicated over the years, and their friendship had strained. Hermione's own crush on Ron had dissipated, though she had a feeling he still liked her. He seemed to always turn red when they were close together, and he would not hug her like Harry would. He was an awkward friend. Truthfully, that shyness put her off a bit. She was the shy one. For a while she had wished he would just say something to her, to just kiss her, but he had been too afraid, and she had grown tired of waiting. Her fascination had returned to books.   
  
"There she is! Oi, Hermione!" Harry and Ron were leaning off of the train, waving at her. Rons red hair was clashing with the green in Harrys jumper.  
  
Hermione gave her parents one more squeeze before yelling at them to help her with her trunk already. Looking sheepish, they trotted over and Ron hefted her trunk up into his arms, probably to avoid taking her into them as Harry had just done. Smiling honestly in what felt like the first time that morning, Hermione hugged Harry back tightly and laughed when he spun her around. She always appreciated how he could tell when she needed some cheering up, he'd become much more in tune to her than Ron ever had. Harry had always been like that, though when they were younger he would often find himself feeling out of place. Things had changed. With Cho as his girlfriend, He had found much more confidence. And now that Cho had already finished Hogwarts, he would have much more time to spend with her and Ron. It really would be just like old times, all three of them together. Hopefully not facing any dark disasters this year. They all deserved some peace.  
  
Hermione loosened her grip on Harry and he dropped her lightly back down to the ground. "How was your summer, you two?" she asked lightly, taking Crookshanks' basket herself, as Harry and Ron were always too nervous to carry him when he was in a rotten mood, which was whenever he was cooped up in the basket. She would let him out on the train.  
  
Harry was the first to respond as they dropped off her trunk and began searching for an empty compartment. Hermione mentioned she would go visit the prefects and Head Boy, whomever it was this year in their compartment in a while, but she wanted to spend the trip with Harry and Ron. "I spent two weeks with Cho, her family and I went to Hong Kong. I told you about it in the letter, right Hermione?" she nodded, and he continued cheerfully, always happy to talk about Cho, "and we met her great grandfather. He taught us some new spells they don't teach here, Chinese magic is wicked! And there was a Wizard's Zoo there, we say all kinds of neat things, and even a Chinese Fireball was there. It was great." Though Harry never, ever wanted to get close to a dragon again after the Triwizard Tournament, he had enjoyed how Cho nervously stayed so close to him it was as if they had been spellotaped together.  
  
Ron huffed as he sunk down into a seat, they had finally found an empty compartment around the middle of the train. He hadn't sent nearly as many letters to Hermione over the summer, and the ones he had were more like an itenirary then a real letter. "We didn't do much. Mum and Ginny spent a weekend in London together, a girls getaway they called it, and we went to Percy and Penelope's wedding, but you two were there too. That was all we did." Ron's chin slumped down, he couldn't compare to going to Hong Kong like Harry had, his family was still poor. Though Fred and George had opened their joke shop in Diagon Alley and were a roaring success, they spent most of it on inventing new jokes. They sent a little home every so often, but it was never enough. Percy had moved out, and he and Penelope were now living in Yorkshire. Only Ron and Ginny were left at home, so it did leave a little more money to go around.  
  
"The wedding was very nice." Hermione commented as she released Crookshanks from his basket. He gave them all a contemptuous look before he arduously pulled himself over the edge only to curl up on the seat between Harry and Hermione, carefully eyeing Pigwidgeon fluttering nosily in his cage. Hedwig gave neither of the other animals any attention, she was much too proud to associate herself with them, always had been. Checking her watch, Hermione decided it was time to go meet with the prefects and Head Boy.   
  
"Here, Harry," she said, digging a few sickles out of her pocket, "get me a pumpkin pasty or four when the trolley comes by, okay?" she flashed a grin at him as he laughed, even Ron cracked a smile before she slipped through the sliding doors and headed for the front on the train, trailing her hand along the railing. To her right the fields of green and different shades of yellow were a blur in the cloudy light through the window. It wasn't a dreary day, but it was bordering on gloomy. She hated taking the train now unless it was a sunny day, ever since that time the dementors had boarded in that pounding rainstorm. It had all, in a strange but mostly good way, worked out in the end, but she sometimes still woke up terrified by nightmares of them.  
  
Her attention diverted by the clouds outside, Hermione didn't notice anyone infront of her until they collided. She bounced back somewhat, grabbing the railing to hold herself on her feet.  
  
"Watch where you're going, Granger." a snide voice snapped harshly from above her.  
  
It was Malfoy. How she had missed him, she wasn't sure. He was roughly the same build as Harry, though his presence was much more commanding, his haughty arrogance had grown as steadily as he himself had. "Shove off Malfoy, or Slytherin will have less points than zero." she muttered, forcing herself to raise her chin and glare at him. She wasn't going to let him get away with anything this year, she reminded herself. ... But maybe she had been recalling Draco from when they were younger, when he didn't tower over her and make her feel so small and helpless. No, no he couldn't do anything to her she told herself.  
  
If he was surprised by her threat, he gave no reaction other than to motion for Crabbe and Goyle to follow him. Now those two really did give Hagrid a run for the biggest man at Hogwarts. Quickly enough they had slunk into a compartment not far down, though before Malfoy slammed the door shut, he gave her a piercing look that made her toes curl and her cheeks flush. Oh, he was not happy that she had power over him now, and it did make him feel just a little more inferior. He hadn't made Head Boy, she had noted, and yet she, a mudblood, had. That set a grim smile on her lips and she continued to the front of the train. She could see everyone through the glass when she reached the first compartment, they all had their robes on already. Hermione herself had hers on, the black swept around her ankles, the Head Girl pin was settled just above her Gryffindor crest. She smiled at all the prefects as they greeted her with variations of "Good Morning" and Hermione finally saw who the Head Boy was. Justin Finch-Flecthley grinned at her brightly, his Head Boy badge shining above his Hufflepuff crest.   
  
"Oh, Justin! How wonderful!" Hermione burst out, wrapping her arms around him when he rose to his feet. He obviously had never expected to be Head Boy, but there he was, and he was even more delighted he would share responsibilities with Hermione, whom he had always gotten along well with. Not to mention she was hugging him, untouchable, pretty Hermione, her breasts pressing into his chest. His grin widened.  
  
Back in the compartment with Harry and Ron, the two boys were chatting about Qudditch, of course. "So this year Fred and George bought me a Nimbus, so I can actually keep up with you guys finally. We can work on those manoeuvres Pavarti wanted to try last year." Ron was saying, his cheeks somewhat turning red when he mentioned their chaser and captain, Pavarti. Fred and George had gotten Ron the broom for a present, saying they couldn't stand to watch him fly around on their old Shooting Star. He really appreciated it, to say the least. Gryffindor hadn't been winning nearly as much as it had in the past, even with Harry as seeker.  
  
Harry nodded, absently unwrapping another chocolate frog he had bought off of the trolley. Hermione's pumpkin pasties sat beside him and Crookshanks, and were very tempting, but he and Ron refrained from eating those too. Besides, they had the feast to look forward to. "Yea," Harry mumbled as he shoved the squirming candy into his mouth, "I think now you guys can pull off that..." swinging his head around as the door slid open, Harry swallowed the chocolate and was just about to pester Hermione about taking so long, when he and Ron both realized it wasn't Hermione.  
  
"Malfoy!" They both jumped to their feet instantly, grabbing at their wands. Crookshanks feebly hissed at the disruption, and Pig began bouncing and squeaking wildly in his cage. "Malfoy, you git, whatever you have to say we don't want to hear it." Ron said deeply, his knuckles white around the end of his wand. Harry's shoulders were tensed as he eyed the blond boy carefully. The older they had gotten, the more violent their encounters had become. Last year Ron had come out of a fight with a broken arm and bruised ribs, not to mention the broccoli shaped growth that had sprung from his head.   
  
That familiar smirk was spread over his lips as Malfoy casually leaned in the doorway, his two giant shadows behind him, glowering. "I'm not here for a fight, though I do enjoy seeing Weasley here resemble a vegetable. No, I'm here about that filthy mudblood Granger. She seems to think she's special now that she's Head Girl. I'm warning you two, keep her in line, or else." without giving them a chance to react, Malfoy slid the door shut in the and soon the forms of him and his cronies had melted away from the other side of the glass.  
  
Harry and Ron shared dark looks. "What did he mean by that? What's he going to do to Hermione?" Ron's voice shook as he fought his emotions down. If that little prick Malfoy even layed a finger on Hermione, he'd kill him. He would, even if it meant life in Azkaban, he would tear Malfoy limb from limb.  
  
Harry shook his head and slumped his shoulders. "I don't know Ron. But we should tell Hermione to lay off of it, he might try to hurt her too." Harry tugged his hand through his hair, his fingers lingering over his scar. He couldn't bear it if Hermione was hurt, he wouldn't take it. He'd be right along side Ron in Azkaban, he would take his fair turn killing Malfoy. Falling back into his seat, Harry looked at the rest of his treats. He had lost his appetite. Reaching his fingers over, Harry idly scratched Crookshanks behind the ears as he and Ron silently brooded, staring out the window. Though every year started off with a threat from Malfoy, he had never really threatened Hermione before. He always took his anger with her out on the two of them, he had at least enough honour not to attack a girl. But had that changed? Harry and Ron thought Malfoy would sink to any level to just stroke his own ego. And now that they were older, their minds instantly attached to the disgusting ways Draco could hurt her. They would not let it happen. 


	2. Eyes on Me

I don't own any rights to Harry Potter, I did not creature any of the characters, place names (cept for London and Yorkshire and Kings Cross, I didn't create those either, but neither did JK Rowling) or magic spells or any other things, you all know JK Rowling did. Worship her as I do.  
  
Hermione had returned a half hour later to find the boys both still staring out the window, grim frowns creasing their mouths. Harry had sat her down and quietly explained what had happened, asking her to fill in the details. Ron looked like if he opened his mouth, he would explode.  
  
"Look, Harry, I don't see what's so special about this time. Malfoy has threatened me before, and I've always come out fine." Relatively, anyways. No permanent damage. Shrugging her shoulders, Hermione pushed that topic away and fixed her eyes on her watch. "We'll be arriving soon. You two should put your robes on."   
  
Glancing down when Crookshanks snorted in his sleep, Hermione spotted the pumpkin pasties Harry had bought her. She really wasn't hungry now, nerves had bunched in her stomach now making her feel uncomfortably full. She would have them later, maybe as a treat when she was studying. As Harry and Ron dug through their trunks to find their robes, Hermione dropped the pasties into her neatly organized trunk. Everything in it's place. Ron, on the other hand, had shoved and squished everything he possibly could into the old, beat up case. Rolling her eyes, she swayed with the train as it began to slow. The lights of Hogsmeade shone in the darkening distance, they were almost there. People in the train were chattering loudly now, some were even wandering the corridor excitedly, first years were squeaking in anticipation.   
  
Hermione smiled lightly as she carefully lifted Crookshanks back into his basket. He probably didn't appreciate it, but as he was still half asleep he didn't put up much of a fight. Pigwidgeon was hooting madly now, intoxicated by all the excitement. Ron was glowing at his little owl, shooting looks to Harry's very dignified, well behaved Hedwig. It wasn't that Ron didn't love and appreciate Pig, he just wished Sirius had sent a bigger, and less stupid owl that time.  
  
Someone slid their door open as Harry was reaching for the handle, and as Ron and Harry tensed again, Hermione felt a frown tugging at her lips. Malfoy really had made them nervous. But it wasn't Malfoy in the door, it was Justin. He gave Ron and Harry a strange look, and turned his attention to Hermione.  
  
"We have our own cart waiting for us, Hermione. McGonagall wants to speak to us before the sorting quickly. Come on." Leaning back, he made way for her to pass him down the hall. He gave Harry and Ron a half smile, his chest puffed out proudly so they couldn't miss his badge.   
  
When Ron scowled and muttered something about Percy, Justin quickly retreated to Hermione, leaving the two boys alone to make their way off the train. Things were already changing. The last time they would ever ride up to the castle, and Hermione wasn't with them. Sharing a knowing look, Ron and Harry sighed together and joined the mass confusion on the way off the train.  
  
"Firs' years this way! Firs' years!" Hagrid's booming voice echoed over all the commotion, little shapes scrambled through the crowd of bigger students to make their way to him. Harry, and moreso Ron, were easily spotted in the crowd, and Hagrid beamed at them holding his lantern high. "Oi, hello there yer two. Where's Hermione?"  
  
Ron jabbed his thumb towards where the carriages were waiting, Justin was helping Hermione up into the seats. Hagrid gave them a knowing grin, but was soon distracted by a little girl who had burst into tears at the sight of him. Harry took Ron by the elbow and found a carriage, where Dean and Seamus soon caught up with them. Soon the boys were jabbering on about Qudditch and the newest practical jokes Fred and George had invented as the carriages rumbled towards the castle.  
  
The Head Boy and Girl carriage had arrived before anyone else, McGonagall was waiting on the steps for Justin and Hermione. She looked just as stern as ever, except when her eyes turned to Hermione, her lips did not seem quite as tight. "I wish to congratulate you two. Very well done," she spoke as they mounted the stairs below her, "Dumbledore requests that you remain after the feast to receive all the information you will need to being your responsibilities. He will meet you in the antechamber. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to prepare the room for the new students." giving Hermione and Justin a nod, McGonagall swept up the stairway to the entrance hall.   
  
Hermione took a deep breath, her hands curling into fists at her side. She could hear the other carriages arriving behind them, the students nattering away. Justin tapped her on the shoulder and motioned towards the giant doors. They were supposed to wait in the entrance hall and direct anyone who wasn't sure where to go, they knew that from seeing all the previous Head Boys and Girls do that every year.   
  
Everything afterwards seemed a blur to Hermione. She knew she directed a few first years to the antechamber, she recalled Harry, Ron, Dean ans Seamus coming up to meet her. Dean and Seamus both gave her a "cheers" and Harry touched her on the shoulder, mentioning they'd save her a seat before the crowd pushed them into the dining hall. She also recalled Malfoy shooting her a glare of pure acid when he made his way inside, Crabbe and Goyle at his heels, Pansy Parkinson clutching on to his arm. Her skin had flushed and turned to ice by that look, but thankfully Justin had conveniently stepped infront of her to speak with Ernie McMillian at that same moment, so Malfoy couldn't do anything more than glare.  
  
Soon enough everyone had settled into the Great Hall, eagerly watching as the new students were sorted into the houses. Cheers rose every few moments, and people scooted around on the benches to make room for the new members. Hermione was dimly away of four girls and six little boys being sorted into Gryffindor, but with her chin in her hand, she was more content to stare dimly up at the ceiling where wisps of clouds passed infront of the stars. Only when Harry elbowed her did she realize Dumbledore had already finished his yearly speech and people were digging into various dishes.  
  
How had she missed that delicious scent of food wafting under her nose, or Dean and Seamus laughing as they designed faces in their mashed potatoes with peas? Quickly enough Hermione's mood brightened and her hunger returned. Parvati had engaged Harry in a conversation about new tactics, and who they might be playing first in the house cup, Ron was explaining the quirks of Hogwarts to a charming little first year girl who had settled down beside him.   
  
Letting her eyes wander as she popped some grapes into her mouth, Hermione found her attention drawn across the hall to the Slytherin table. Malfoy was watching her. Jerking her shoulders, Hermione turned her head and tried to pay attention to what Ron was saying about how the stair cases moved, and if you get lost, ask the paintings, but stay away from a knight and his horse, they were bad news.   
  
That didn't keep her attention. Looking up again, Malfoy's eyes were still on her. He had his knife against his lips, and when he was sure he had her attention, his tongue snaked out to slide the last of the gravy from his meat into his mouth, a feral grin around the golden knife. Hermione shuddered and swung around to Harry. She was going to tell him what Malfoy had just done, when she paused. What had he just done? Was he trying to scare her? She didn't feel exactly frightened, only uneasy, though even that wasn't a completely unpleasant feeling. Did she actually find that... sexy? No, she couldn't. Hermione grit her teeth and poked her fork at her food. She wasn't hungry anymore, again. She was all too grateful when Dean turned to her, a mouthful of steak, and garbled something about if she would tell him the password to get into the Ravenclaw dormitory. He had quite a crush on Parvati's twin sister, Padma. Seamus and Ron often teased him about why didn't he just go for Parvati, they were basically the same. But no, Dean wanted Padma, if only because Parvati was too accessible. And had slapped him once when he had tried just that, hitting on her instead of her sister.  
  
Dinner passed pleasantly after that, though Hermione forced herself to not look up again. She could feel him willing her to look again, but she would not give in. She would now allow him to have any power over her.  
  
People were sleepy now, idly picking at the food just because it was there, even though they were stuffed. Lavender kept hiding yawns behind her hand as she and Ginny mused over how cute the new boys would be in a few years. The first year girl who had sat beside Ron was now leaning against him, drowsing off into sleep. Ron and Harry were quiet as they talked, not wanting to wake such a cute little thing. Dean and Seamus had gotten tired of having a pea flicking battle with Neville, and the three of them were busy picking the little green balls out of their clothes and hair.  
  
Some people were already wearily climbing off the benches and meandering on their way out towards their dorms. Justin was up at the head table talking with Professor Sprout about something that seemed important, Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape were speaking over their wine goblets. Hagrid, already looking tipsy, was motioning animatedly in a conversation with Lupin, who had returned as the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor in Harry, Ron and Hermione's fifth year.  
  
"I should go talk to Dumbledore now." Hermione mentioned, finally dropping her fork. Her mashed potatoes were mutilated beyond recognition, mixed with gravy and bits of carrot, and stray peas from the battle to her left.   
  
"'Kay Hermione. We'll see you upstairs later." Ron mumbled around his fifth treacle tart. He got to his feet with Dean, Seamus and Neville, joining the lingering crowd towards the entrance hall. Harry had said his good bye earlier, him and Parvati had wanted to go and write down their ideas for new formations right away before they forgot.  
  
Making her way up to the head table, Hermione delayed herself a few minutes by pausing to talk with Lupin and Hagrid, who both gave her glowing smile and congratulations, Hagrid even made his way around the table to capture her in a hug that squeezed her breath right from her lungs. Things were beginning to feel right again, and she was feeling more and more comfortable. Malfoy was out of her mind, and her teachers and friends were pouring admiration and respect down on her, which she felt she had more than earned. Though she would never say such a thing.  
  
Dumbledore took them into the antechamber behind the tables and began explaining their duties and responsibilities. They were given the locations and passwords of all the houses, the password to Dumbledore's office, a strict list of what kind of punishments they were allowed to give out and for what, along with all of the other functions and things they would have to deal with. Hermione was greatly relieved she had someone responsible like Justin to share the tasks with. When Dumbledore had finished, he gave them one of his smiles, the one that made Hermione feel as if everything was going to be fine.  
  
"Goodnight Professor." she nodded to him as he headed out the door.  
  
"Night Professor." Justin echoed.  
  
Dumbledore's eyes lit up cheerfully once more as he raised a hand to them. "Sleep well tonight. I'm very proud of you two." and with that, he left. The door remained open.  
  
Turning to Hermione, Justin was beaming. Hufflepuffs rarely got much recognition, and here he was, Head Boy! He still couldn't get over it. His knees almost buckled when Dumbledore said he was proud, Hermione could tell it all by just the look on his face. "Well, goodnight Hermione. Should I walk you back to the tower?"  
  
Her cheeks still flushed from the glowing compliment Dumbledore had given them, Hermione shook her head. "No thank you Justin. I'll see you tomorrow." she wanted to remain for a moment, Violet was almost bouncing in her frame in anticipation to congratulate Hermione too.  
  
Justin gave Hermione another grin and swept out of the room, obviously anxious to make his way to the Hufflepuff common room to do a little celebrating.  
  
"Good show!" Violet burst out, clapping for Hermione, who in turn did a playful little curtsy. "I heard along the vine that you had been chosen as Head Girl, and I thought, 'Naturally!' No one deserves it more."  
  
Hermione's cheeks flushed even more, and her chin dropped down shyly. "Thank you Violet. I appreciate it."  
  
The painting woman nodded. "Yes. Well, I'm very happy for you. Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a party on the forth floor I really should be attending, old Headmaster Kropla throws wonderful soirees. Goodnight Hermione."   
  
Hermione waved lightly to the woman who then hurried across and out of the room through various other paintings. Lifting her palms to her cheeks, Hermione moved for the doorway, wishing she wasn't blushing so much. After all, she knew this was coming. But when her eyes fell on the doorway, well, someone had shut the door on her. Someone was standing there, watching her. That someone was Malfoy, a malicious smirk on his face.  
  
"'Naturally,'" he spat out, mocking Violet, "there is nothing natural about a mudblood like you becoming Head Girl."  
  
Hermione froze, her hands curling at her sides. She couldn't seem to connect any coherent thoughts. Malfoy had just closed himself and her into an empty room. The Great Hall would be empty now too. There was no one around. "Malfoy." she managed to croak out, though her voice shook far too much to help whatever little confidence she had. Her brain was telling her to back up, retreat, but she would not let herself, she had more dignity than that. Inhaling slowly, Hermione tightened her hands into fists and tried to steady herself. "Move out of the way, Malfoy. You should be in your dorm right now. Ten points from Slytherin."  
  
Draco wasn't bothered at all by her whimpering about points. He doubted she'd even have the courage to report this, no points would be lost. His grin darkened, and he pushed away from the door towards her. His nose wrinkled as he came to stand infront of her, as if she smelled foul, not faintly like apples. "I will never take orders from you, Granger. I will never be degraded by a pathetic little slug like you." His steady hand reached up and twisted into her hair. The tips of his fingers brushed her cheek gently, and he was delighted to see them tinge even redder. "You," he spoke softly now, though the edge to his voice was as sharp as the knife he had licked, "will never," jerking roughly on her hair, Hermione stumbled against him, "be better than me." his last words were no more than a whisper against her ear.   
  
Hermione's head was reeling. One second, he seemed almost gentle, the next her scalp was burning where he had yanked so roughly on her hair. That wasn't the only thing that was burning, either. Her cheeks were on fire, and her hands trembled now, fighting back rage. All she wanted this year was to be left alone to enjoy herself. She had promised herself she wouldn't let Malfoy get away with anything. But now what was she supposed to do? This wasn't a quick, angry attack like he usually whipped out, this was different. This was worse.  
  
Draco could feel her shaking, her small form cowering against him. Yes, this was a much better way to attack her, much more damaging in the long run, much more cruel. He almost wanted to cry out in ecstasy on how wonderfully this was going already. She was too afraid to say anything, her breath was coming out in ragged little breaths, she was just a cowardly little dog. Tugging his hand free from her mass of hair, his fingers pinched her chin, yanking her face up to look him in the eyes. Yes, there was that fear in those wide brown eyes. It was so delicious. "You are nothing, Granger. You've never been anything more than a convenient textbook for your irritating friends, you'll never amount to anything once you graduate." his nose was resting against hers now, he was speaking right against her lips. Her lips that moved voicelessly, too scared to emit any other sound than a faint whimper. "You'll never have anything." he would not allow it. He would not let her enjoy anything ever again. Jerking forward, he sealed his mouth over hers. There was nothing sweet about the kiss, it was just take. Take in that pitiful sound, take in her taste, take her first kiss. Take things from her she could never get back. Take her confidence. Take her soul.  
  
She couldn't move. What could she do? What was he doing? Why was he kissing her? No, this wasn't a kiss, it wasn't sweet, he didn't care for her. He was just doing this to hurt her. They both knew it was much more effective than throwing hexes at Ron and Harry. This would hurt them all much more. A sob bubbled up from her throat, and Draco drank it down earnestly. This was more painful than she could ever have imagined, tears were streaming down her cheek and her legs were shaking under her. If Draco wasn't holding her up with those rough hands, she probably would have fallen to her knees.  
  
No, she would never be on her knees, not for him, not because of him. She would not let him win. Abruptly, Hermione thrust her hands at Draco's chest, and he stumbled back, but not before his teeth raked along and tore open her lip from here he had been savagely chewing on it.   
  
She didn't remain to yell or scream or cry, though she wanted nothing more to point her wand at him and mutter 'avada kedavra' with all the power she could muster behind it, all she did was run. Her lip seared with pain, but she just ran, straight out of the great hall, right past a startled Peeves, all the way up to the Gryffindor Tower.  
  
"Oh my goodness Hermione! What happened?" the Fat Lady cried out, but Hermione didn't answer, she just coughed out the password and climbed through the portrait hole.  
  
Harry and Ron were still lingering in the common room, they looked up cheerfully from their game of wizards chess when she entered. Once they caught site of her, however, their cheerfulness faded. Ron leapt up from his seat, the chess board and all the pieces flying off of the table. Harry cursed and climbed over a sofa quicker than Hermione had ever seen him move.  
  
He immediately grabbed Hermione in a protective embrace, holding her much too tightly, but she didn't complain. She clutched at his arms, just wanting to be held tighter.   
  
"What happened? Hermione? Who did this to you? Stop crying and say something!" Ron was yelling, both at her and at the whole situation. He was pacing up and down one of the rugs, he had already kicked an armchair over that had gotten in his way. But every time he raised his voice and demanded an explanation, Hermione just sobbed louder and hid against Harry.  
  
People emerged from their dorms to see what all the yelling was about. Some people mumbled sleepily, but everyone froze silent when they heard Ron's ranting and Hermione crying.   
  
Harry, lightly stroking Hermione's hair, calmly spoke. "Ron, please be quiet. We know who did this." He was shaking with anger too. He wanted to burst out of the hole and find Draco and kill him. No, not just kill him, he wanted to make Draco regret every single minute of his existence. But he couldn't. Not right now. Hermione needed them both. With a meaningful look to Ron, he finally calmed his friend down enough.  
  
"He'll pay. He'll pay for it." Ron hissed through his teeth, sounding nothing like himself. Carefully, completely unsure of himself, he stood with Harry and laid a hand against Hermione's back. 


	3. Sweet Ones

I don't own any rights to Harry Potter, I did not creature any of the characters, place names (cept for London and Yorkshire and Kings Cross, I didn't create those either, but neither did JK Rowling) or magic spells or any other things, you all know JK Rowling did. Worship her as I do.  
  
If anyone's noticed, I'm using song titles for the chapter names. Eh. My winamp list has some dramatic titles. It's all good.  
  
Hermione barely slept at all that night. Once she had finally calmed down enough, and gotten Ron to allow her two feet away from him, he and Harry and taken her up to the medical wing. Madam Pomfrey had taken one look at her an insisted she stay the night, and that Dumbledore should be called. Harry and Ron had convinced her otherwise, and swore the nurse to secrecy. Hermione remained silent and sullen through the whole time, not even flinching when her lip was repaired rather painfully. She felt like the walking dead.  
  
When Harry and Ron had brought her back to her dorm, they insisted they even tuck her in. Lavender and Parvati had helped Hermione into her nightgown, but thankfully they didn't ask any questions either. Nor did they complain when the boys insisted they stay the rest of the night in the girls dorm. It was completely against the rules, Hermione even pointed it out, but Harry gave her a look so reminiscent of herself, she stayed quiet when Ron flopped down at the end of her bed and Harry settled against her bedside table. She didn't say it, but she really did appreciate the company. Crookshanks had curled up against her shoulder, nestling his flat face against her cheek. With friends like she had, she found some of her confidence returning through the long hours. Draco could try whatever he wanted. His words would not hurt her. Anything else he did to her, Madam Pomfrey could fix. Unless he... No. She wouldn't let him. Next time he tried to lay a hand on her, she'd curse it off.  
  
Finally, as the sun rose and the other girls began to stir, Hermione finally drifted off to sleep. No one disturbed her, though quiet rumours circulated through the Gryffindors all morning. At least they all had enough sense to not speak about it anywhere but in the privacy of the common room.   
  
Hours later, Hermione had finally woken up. Her lip throbbed, but when she touched her fingers to it, she felt nothing, and a glance in her mirror showed it wasn't even swollen. How Harry could stand having his arm regrown and other such cures to his mishaps, she didn't understand. Speaking of Harry...  
  
Pushing herself up in her bed, Hermione's sleepy eyes landed on Ron first. He was sprawled out over the rug in the centre of the room, snoring lightly. His robes were all wrinkled, and his hair was sticking out at all angles. Crookshanks had moved during the morning and had settled on Ron's chest, his claws fastened into Ron's purple jumper. And to her left, Harry's head was propped up against her mattress. His glasses were falling down his nose, his hair had splayed apart to reveal his scar. It hadn't faded at all during the years, it still made people stop and stare.   
  
The rest of the room was mostly empty. The other girls had clothes and books strewn over their beds, some of Lavender's socks were hanging on the back of a chair. The house elves hadn't been in yet to tidy, as Hermione and the boys hadn't left yet. That, and Professor McGonagall was standing in the doorway, looking very stern indeed.  
  
Hermione let out a squeak in surprise, and at that both Ron and Harry jerked awake. Ron was on his feet in seconds, sleepy clouding his mind as he randomly waved his fists around, slurring "I'll get him, don't you worry..." Crookshanks had screeched in surprise and went flying halfway across the room, landing on Parvati's bed.  
  
Harry was watching the professor with a muted gaze, scrubbing his forehead. "We can explain, Professor."  
  
McGonagall said nothing, only lifted a hand and pointed to the door. Harry and Ron got the message easily enough, and with a look to Hermione, scrambled out. When they were gone, McGonagall closed the door behind them.  
  
Instantly the expression on her face changed from anger to worry. "Hermione, Poppy told me you came to see her last night. She said you looked as if someone had, well, roughed you up." Skinny hangs wrong themselves together as Professor McGonagall seemed to be fighting within herself the urge to be a protector, and a discipliner.   
  
Hermione let out a heavy sigh. Poppy had promised not to tell anyone... But then again, McGonagall could make anyone talk. "It, it's not like that professor. I had been playing with Crookshanks there, and Ron had startled him. He," she struggled to come up with a reasonable lie, "he jumped and scratched me. It scared me to death. Maybe I was tired, and a little overwhelmed. It was nothing, Professor. Harry and Ron were just worried about me. But I'm fine. Really." Hermione kept her eyes on McGonagall, though she felt guilt burning in her stomach for lying. She did not want to tell the truth, she didn't want everything to be blown out of proportion. She wanted to forget it.  
  
McGonagall eyed her suspiciously for a moment, until her shoulders fell and she dropped down on the edge of Hermione's bed. "Is that all? You had me so worried! Not showing up for class, you or the boys." unsure of what she should do, McGonagall placed a light hand on Hermione's knee over the covers. "If being Head Girl is too much of a responsibility for you, Hermione, I can find-"  
  
"No!" Hermione interrupted, sitting forward. "No, I can handle it. Please Professor? I was just tired. I'll be fine. I can handle it."  
  
Something that was almost a smile settled on McGonagall's lips. "Very well then. It's almost lunch period. I expect you to be ready for classes this afternoon. And you too, boys." McGonagall raised her voice for her last statement, and Ron's muffled voice could be heard cursing through the door. If Hermione didn't know better, she would have thought it amused McGonagall.  
  
"Thank you, Professor. It won't happen again." Hermione forced a comforting smile on for the professor, and nodded to her when the woman left. She meant what she said. It would not happen again.  
  
Somewhat distracted, Hermione slipped out of bed and began tugging on her clothes. When she was rolling her last sock on, Harry and Ron knocked at the door. "Are you almost ready, Hermione? Are you sure you'll be okay?"  
  
"I'm fine! I'll be out in a minute!" Hermione called back in response, reaching for her wand. For a moment, she weighed it in her hands, staring at it. She would. She would use it against that little fiend Malfoy if he tried anything. Nodding to herself at that decision, she slipped the wand into her robes and snatched her school bag.   
  
Joining Harry and Ron in the stairwell of the tower, she put on a brave face that didn't fool either of them, but at least assured them that she could handle the day. After all, she was Hermione Granger, Head Girl, smartest girl in Hogwarts, and the master of spells Harry himself couldn't manage to cast properly. She could handle anything.  
  
Lunch was quite uneventful, thankfully. Hermione found herself even having fun as Ron, Dean, Seamus and even Neville joked around, trying to cheer her up. No one asked questions, no one treated her any different. Of course, if they knew what really happened, they probably would. But all they knew was that their friend had a bad day, and what else should friends do? Hermione forced herself to not take even one look at the Slytherin table, and it really wasn't all that hard as Parvati filled Hermione in on what she'd missed in morning classes. Lavender had even taken notes for Hermione, and handed them over, explaining some points and showing Hermione how to do the new charm they had learned. The Drought Charm, Hermione found, was simple. Of course, Seamus didn't appreciate how she and Lavender kept drying up his pumpkin juice, then laughing when he lifted it for a sip and found nothing there.  
  
Soon, though, everyone began packing their bags again, afternoon period was about to start. That meant Care of Magical Creatures. With the Slytherins. Hermione would not let it get to her, she held on to her smile as her little crowd of seventh years made their way out of the castle and across the rolling lawn. Harry, Hermione noted, was keeping a very close eye on Ron in case he decided to jump out and curse Malfoy to high heaven, though it was obvious Harry wanted to do exactly the same thing.  
  
Because Malfoy was strutting along ahead of them with his own little crowd, cackling with what the Gryffindors knew was not a pleasant joke.   
  
Up ahead, though, Hermione could see Hagrid standing with a bunch of ropes in his giant hands. At the other ends of the ropes were what looked to be Jack Russel Terriers, except that these animals had forked tails.   
  
"Crups!" Lavender clapped her hands cheerfully. Ron gave her a strange look, and she frowned back at him. "They're just like dogs, except they attack muggles. The love wizards. And they're so cute!" Lavender launched herself ahead with some other Gryffindors, Hermione hung back with Harry and Ron.  
  
"What, do you suppose we have to walk them? They're only dogs. What's so special about them?" Ron muttered, his hand wringing the handle of his wand. His eyes didn't stray far from Draco at all, who was already petting an especially cheerful Crup.  
  
Harry gave a shrug. "I dunno. But Fang doesn't look too happy." he said absently, his eyes landing on the black dog, a real dog, who sat pouting back by Hagrid's hut. He was obviously jealous.  
  
"Poor dear." Hermione commented lightly. But she didn't have too much sympathy, after all, the Crups were much more adorable than Fang. When they finally arrived at the crowd, Hagrid was handing out leashes to groups of three. Naturally, Harry, Ron and Hermione formed their own group, greeting their Crup, named Perrywinkle, cheerfully. It seemed rather keen on Harry and Ron, but avoided much contact with Hermione.  
  
Her mood was getting harder and harder to maintain, especially when Lavender, Parvati and their other roommate were squealing as the Crup nuzzled and licked them all excitedly.  
  
"Alrigh' now yer all. These guys need walking. Come back here halfway though class and I'll have summat out for them to eat." Hagrid waved them off, and the groups ran or walked in all different directions with their pet.  
  
Harry and Ron were watching Hermione, who was looking sullen again. "Well, Lavender said they didn't like muggles..." Ron mentioned, trying to find some way to comfort her as to why the Crup was giving her angry looks and hiding behind Harry's legs from her.  
  
That was not the right thing to say. Fighting back against the tears that welled in her eyes, Hermione's hands curled into fists at her sides. Her voice cracked as she spoke. "It's all right. You two walk it. I'll wait over there until class is over. I can study. Really," she offered another cheap smile to the boys, "I'll be fine."  
  
Harry, though, had noticed how Malfoy was watching them. And grinning over the fact the Crup wouldn't go near Hermione. He swore he could hear a chorus of 'mudblood' ringing down over the grass, and his knuckled tightened around the rope. "No, Hermione, we'll stay with you."  
  
Hermione shook her head. "No, I'll be fine. See? I'll stay right by the cabin, Hagrid will be around." She would be fine. She would go sit on the fence around Hagrid's little garden and read up on Drought Charms.  
  
Ron was still against it. But Harry, noticing the look on Hermione's face, agreed with a sigh. "We won't go far. We won't take our eyes off of you."  
  
"I'll be fine!" Hermione snapped, then jerked her self back quickly. She was getting frustrated again. "I'll be fine." she repeated, this time her voice quiet and steady. Without another word, she turned and headed to the fence.  
  
She would be fine. Hanging her bag on the post, Hermione climbed up along the railing and leaned back against a rather large pumpkin that had grown to about as tall as her and half again. She would be fine.  
  
Half an hour later after Hermione had dried up and refilled a bucket in the garden several times again with her charms, she was beginning to get bored. Off around the lake she could see people playing with the Crups. Hagrid was banging around inside his hut, preparing the food. And Ron and Harry had vanished around the other side of the hut, the little dog proving to be much stronger than it looked, almost tearing Ron's arm off as it went chasing after Dean, Neville, and Seamus' Crup.  
  
"Does the little mudblood not get along with the little puppy? Poor girl, poor, poor muggle." came the mocking drawl of none other than Malfoy. He was leaning against the wall of the hut, arms crossed over his chest.  
  
Hermione's breath hitched in her throat, but she forced herself to remain calm. After all, she was holding her wand in her fingers, it wouldn't take more than half a second to point it at him and mutter 'petrificus totalus'. "Go away, Malfoy." she strained her voice to remain steady, carefully pretending to be reading her book, though she watched him very carefully from the corner of her eyes.   
  
Of course, he did not go away. Instead, he slowly sauntered closer, his eyes raking over her, as if he found her attractive. But he couldn't, she was nothing but a mudblood to him. "You know, Granger, people are beginning to talk already. Why weren't you in classes this morning, hmm?" Stopping infront of her, he looked up. Sitting on the fence as she was, his head only reached her shoulders. "I could have a lot of fun with rumours, you know." That sickening little smirk was playing over his lips again.  
  
Hermione was forcing herself to ignore him. The drought charm, while effective on smaller masses of water, would require at least a dozen powerful wizards to drain a lake. Of course, this is never a good idea... No, it was no good, his voice was drilling into her head again. That, and his fingers had landed on her thighs, lightly ticking. Hermione wasn't sure if it was a nice feeling or not... But then again, it was Malfoy. Shutting her book, she swatted his hands with the bound end. "Slog off, I said."  
  
In one quick grab, though, Malfoy had snatched away the book and tossed it over his shoulder. And her wand. That was her wand twirling in his fingers! Hermione's skin chilled. She felt more violated than even the night before. He was touching her wand! Leaning over, Hermione made a grab for her wand. Draco playfully held it just out of reach. "Kiss me, and I may give it back." he taunted.  
  
Her wand. She was nothing without her wand. No, that wasn't true. She just needed it to do a severing charm on his head. He would always be quicker than her, though, and she would never kiss him for it, the mere idea repulsed her, especially after last night. No. Instead, she inhaled a deep breath and let out on note of a yell for Hagrid before her voice snapped off and she was yanked off of her perch.  
  
For the second time in two days, Hermione felt like she had run into a wall. Draco was stronger than he looked. Much stronger. In one hand, he held her wand well out of her reach. His other hand had her trapped against him. Immediately, Hermione tried to scream again, but Draco cut her short by aiming her own wand at her face.  
  
"You yell for help, and by the time anyone gets here you'll be nothing more than a puddle of slime."  
  
He would do it, too. She knew he would. Narrowing her eyes, Hermione forced herself to relax. She had tensed up, but now she wanted to maintain some semblance of control. "Let go of me and return my wand, Draco, or it will be fifty points from Slytherin."  
  
Draco's lips twisted that smirk of his to something even darker. "This won't be any different than last night, Granger. You'll submit to me now like you did then. Only this time, you can at least pretend you have a choice." Tilting his chin down, he moved in close to her face. Hermione refused to retreat even now, and something in him almost admired that courage in her. Almost. "Now, kiss me, Granger. Make a good show."  
  
"Show?" Hermione echoed, confused. At least, until, she saw a group of Gryffindors moving their way, their Crups leading the way. Harry and Ron were not part of it. "I will not!" she hissed, but Draco twitched her wand again. He raised his eyebrows at her, and opened his mouth to mutter a curse. "Bloody..." Hermione muttered, before planting her mouth over Draco's. She made no move to make it any more of a kiss than just their lips touching, but Draco once again reminded her. He was poking her wand into her side. Grinding her teeth, Hermione inexpertly moved her lips. How exactly was she supposed to kiss, anyways? She'd never done it before, except when Draco had kissed her last night. And that didn't really count, did it?  
  
"Much better, my little mudblood." Draco murmured with something akin to affection before he took control of the kiss, mashing their lips together, snaking his tongue out to pry through her teeth and taste her. His free hand wandered along her back, sliding down and around her backside. Curse that long robe, he couldn't find a way in for his hand. But when he heard shocked whispers from the nearing crowd, he knew it was done. Taking Hermione's chin in his hand, he forced her to look at him. She had tears dancing in those chocolate brown eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She was stronger than he thought. "Now listen to me closely. If you don't want Weasley and Potter hurt, you'll do what I say, when I say. You will not resist me." Releasing her chin, he stroked his hand over her hair. "You did well today. But I'll have you whimpering for more at me feet in no time."  
  
Hermione was trembling with unreleased rage. If only she had her wand... But she couldn't, now. People were watching. And it donned on her. Draco was smarter than she thought. People would think they were involved. Her coming to the tower crying and bloody could be blamed off to a fight between lovers. And the tender way Draco was speaking to her now, petting her hair, of course it looked that way to people. But she knew it was more like how he would treat a favourite dog. Nothing more. She was a toy. And she knew he would stay true to his word. He would harm Harry and Ron without a second thought. "You bastard, I can go straight to Dumbledore and tell him the truth. He'll believe me."  
  
"You wouldn't do such a thing." Draco purred, nudging his mouth along her neck. Latching his lips to her neck, he dabbed his tongue on her soft skin, lightly bit, and inhaled. That would leave a mark. Draco was here. This belongs to Draco. He loved it all, it was so sweet. "You will tell anyone who asks that you have a thing for me, and I took pity on a poor mudblood like you. You'll lap up any attention I give you, and you'll enjoy it to. Maybe not right now, but eventually, you will."  
  
Hermione still felt like she had been plunged into the lake in the middle of winter. "You'll get yours one of these days, Malfoy. And I'll be damned, but I'll be the one who does it." Finally, his grip loosened and she shoved away from him, snatching her wand away when he offered. He gave her one of his evil little grins before turning to the small crowd that had gathered. He gave a smug little wave, then sauntered off to rejoin Crabbe and Goyle. Hermione huffed out her breath and gathered up her book, shoving it so harshly into her book bag that it ripped.  
  
"Oh, hell!" she swore, exasperated. Pointing her wand at the bag, she muttered "Reparo." and flung it over her shoulders.  
  
"Hermione, we didn't know..." Lavender was one of the crowd. Her and Parvati, along with Neville who had joined them, moved to block Hermione's exit.   
  
"No, you didn't know. You don't know. You don't know anything!" Hermione snapped, shoving through them and storming up to the castle. She was tempted to go and tell Dumbledore, McGonagall, anyone, but... But she couldn't. Draco would hurt her friends, she didn't doubt that. And maybe, just maybe, she did enjoy it a bit. Damn Draco, but she did like the way he kissed. 


	4. Call Your Name

I don't own any rights to Harry Potter, I did not creature any of the characters, place names (cept for London and Yorkshire and Kings Cross, I didn't create those either, but neither did JK Rowling) or magic spells or any other things, you all know JK Rowling did. Worship her as I do.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
Her knuckles were already white as she clutched her textbook. She had hoped to avoid everyone she possibly could. It had been two days since the Care of Magical Creatures class. Hermione had gone to the rest of classes. But she had spoken to no one, she hadn't raised her hand in any class, even when McGonagall was looking straight at her in Transfiguration, expecting her to know the proper incantation to turn a quill into a bird. Of course she had, but Lavender had answered instead. Lavender and Parvati had drawn much closer to Hermione lately, probably curious as to why she was involved with Draco, and they were probably hoping for Hermione to open up and tell them any juicy secrets. But Hermione had remained silent, and as soon as the weekend had started, she had hidden herself away in the farthest, most remote corner of the library.  
  
"Hermione!"  
  
Someone tore the book from her hands, forcing her to redirect her attention. It was Harry. Ron was standing behind Harry's shoulder.  
  
Harry didn't look anything remotely like himself. His cheeks were red, his jaw set tightly as if he were gritting his teeth so hard not a breath of air could pass between them. "What the hell is going on? Why did Lavender say that you were probably with Draco when we asked where you were? Why would she say that?" Harry's voice rose and cracked, but he managed to contain himself. He was shaking, he was so confused and angry, he didn't know how to act.  
  
Ron was in a worse way. He was as white as snow. His mouth kept opening and closing, as if he were trying to say something, but his throat wouldn't work. His eyes were darting around madly as he wrung his hands and shifted on his feet, he looked almost hysterical.  
  
Hermione took both of their dispositions in, and quickly hung her head. What was she supposed to do? She had no doubt in her mind if she told them the truth they would go ballistic. Ron looked like he was about to start cursing everything in sight, and she knew Harry would go straight to Draco. She didn't want that. She knew Harry was more powerful than Draco, he had really developed in these past years, but Draco would have no reservations. Draco would not show mercy. If she told them, or if she lied, she lost either way. But if she lied, at least Harry and Ron would probably survive. Unless they went off over that, too.  
  
Shaking her head, Hermione clutched her hands tightly together in her lap. "I, Draco and I... Oh, Harry, Ron, I'm so sorry. I couldn't bring myself to tell you. But Draco and I are..." the words would not come out. The lie tasted so bitter as it rolled off her tongue, she couldn't help but make a face at it all. She couldn't look at them. But they interpreted it in their own way.  
  
Ron was the one to react first. He took a shaky breath, and in the smallest voice spoke, "Well then, I hope you two are very happy together." and with that he turned and walked stiffly away. Hermione could hear in that tiny voice that Ron had broken. She knew he loved her, and she knew he always hated himself for not having the courage to make anything of it. Now he had lost her to his worst enemy. Hermione wanted to call him back, to hold him and just cry, but she held it in, pushing it all down until she felt numb.  
  
Harry just stood there. He couldn't take it in. He wouldn't accept it. Now he was the one who looked like a fish out of water, his mouth gaping wide.  
  
She couldn't stay there, she couldn't stand in her best friend's shadow drowning in such a lie. She couldn't do it. Scraping at her books to gain a grip, Hermione thrust herself forward and around Harry. Her hands were curled into fists at her sides, she barely saw the floor infront of her feet as she hung her head, hiding her face behind her hair. She wanted Harry to call out for her, to come and tell her it was all okay, that he wouldn't let Draco do this, that he'd stop it all somehow. Harry was the one who always saved the day, he always made everything better. She didn't see how he could this time, this wasn't a battle against Voldemort. This was much more complicated. And Harry didn't know how to fight such an enemy.  
  
Hermione had to fight on her own.  
  
She had no idea where she was going. Hallway through to hallway, stairway to stairway, not caring which way the staircases went, or what rooms she passed, she didn't even notice when she walked right through an illusionary wall that wasn't supposed to be there at all. Nothing drew her attention from within until someone spoke from a doorway.  
  
"There's a good girl. So obedient. Weasley looked absolutely devastated, it was delicious."  
  
Without missing a step, without even acknowledging him, Hermione turned and swung her fist at him.  
  
Draco was taken by surprise, and stumbled back into the room, a hand held to his cheek. She had punched him! That wouldn't do at all. His smirk lifted onto his lips, and a chuckled snaked through them. Hermione looked positively murderous as she loomed in the doorway. How adorable! Before she could lift her wand all the way, he knew she would probably stun him, he swept out his own arm and snapped "Accio!". When her wand landed in his hand his smirk crept even higher into his cheek. "You wouldn't want to do anything stupid, darling." he spoke the pet name as if it were sweetly sour, perhaps Draco himself was fighting his own little battle within himself.  
  
Hermione was shaking. She didn't know what to do, her ears were ringing. She hadn't even known she'd drawn her wand until she felt it jerk from her hand and fly to his. She could feel tears stinging at her eyes, she tried to blink them back, but instead they just spilled down her cheeks. She felt like she was falling apart. Ron would probably never speak to her again, and Harry, even Harry didn't try to help her. She didn't have anyone, and she didn't think she had the strength in herself. Draco was standing there calmly, his ice blue eyes narrowed as he waited. But what was he waiting for?  
  
Draco knew she wouldn't leave. He had her wand. And what was more, he had her. She had played exactly to his tune, he had seen Ron in the hallway, the boy looked like a zombie. He had been watching, he had seen Potter and Weasley go into the library to see her, he had seen Weasley leave. Everything was just as he expected. Hermione was completely his now. He could do whatever he wanted. But what exactly did he want? He had shattered Weasley and Potter, what more was there to it? Well, for now he'd play with her, just dig the daggers deeper into their backs, until he decided what to do next. His eyes drew up to the ceiling as he let his imagination wander. The possibilities were endless.  
  
Draco. Draco was all she had now. Maybe, for now, she could play along, maybe he would make it hurt less. Maybe he'd grow bored of it and let her go, then she could tell Harry and Ron the truth... No. They would never forgive him. They would never forgive her. She would never forgive herself. Without intention, Hermione found herself against him, had she moved herself, or had he? She wasn't sure. Whatever the case, he was there, he was warm, and somehow she found comfort in the fact someone was there for her, even if he was only doing it to hurt her and the ones she loved. Her hands curled into his robes and she laid her cheek against his shoulder, sinking into him when he wrapped his arms around her. There was nothing loving in the way he held her, it was completely possessive. At least he would still look at her. 


	5. Silence

I don't own any rights to Harry Potter, I did not creature any of the characters, place names (cept for London and Yorkshire and Kings Cross, I didn't create those either, but neither did JK Rowling) or magic spells or any other things, you all know JK Rowling did. Worship her as I do.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Another week had passed since that day in the library. Hermione wasn't really sure what was going on, but she seemed to have found a comfortable medium for herself. Harry would still talk to her, though it was always very terse and in strained voices. Ron would glance at her occasionally, for the moment forgetting everything that had happened, but something always seemed to remind him. Maybe it was that Draco had insisted she start tying her hair back, and had supplied a green ribbon for her hair, or maybe Ron noticed how she would fidget with her skirt that mysteriously had grown shorter. Or maybe that once Draco and she had settled into their little game, both seemed to almost enjoy it.  
  
Draco loved rubbing in the fact he could have whatever he wanted. Despite that, Hermione had had her own series of small victories. Draco seemed reluctant to 'show off' infront of his fellow Slytherins, so Hermione made a habit out of clinging to his arm and whispering into his ear. Of course, she spoke nothing akin to sweet nothings, instead she would quietly mock him with a sweet smile on her face, basking in the way he would stiffen up when his 'friends' would scoff and mutter and whisper themselves. Draco had begun to loose his edge. Hermione wasn't sure why, but she seemed to gain. For the first while she had felt hopeless. But her friendship with Harry, at least, was stronger than Draco. It wasn't much of a friendship anymore, but it still hung on desperately.  
  
And Draco. Hermione wasn't sure to make of him anymore. Because he would not stop finding her in corners, snatching her away to empty classrooms where no one was around to witness the show. He either wasn't trying as hard to get under her skin, or she had found a way to protect herself from it. Maybe, just maybe it didn't upset her because maybe, maybe she liked the gentle way his fingers would play with her hair, the way he would stand silently with his cheek against hers. He hardly ever insulted her anymore, at least not in private. They were not mortal enemies. Perhaps they were, dare she say it, lovers? Albeit not without their issues, but they did enjoy their time together, even though neither of them would admit it.  
  
But something was beginning to nag at Hermione. Harry and Ron had always come first for her. But now, that wasn't always the case. She would gravitate towards Draco, but mostly she would pause and remember that he was only trying to hurt her, and that she had true friends. That was getting harder and harder to remember, though.  
  
Her first real test of friendship came when the air had chilled enough so she could see her breath as she stood on the Quidditch pitch.  
  
"Hermione?" Draco had begun to refer to her by her first name, at least when they were alone. They weren't necessarily alone right now, the stands were slowly starting to fill for the upcoming game.   
  
Looking up from adjusting her red and gold scarf more warmly around her neck, Hermione eyed Draco. He seemed strange today. He was looking at her funny. Her eyebrows creased in reaction as he replied, "What?"  
  
Draco felt distracted. He really didn't want to play Quidditch today, especially not against Gryffindor. But he did not have a choice. This would be the perfect opportunity to show up both Potter and Weasley, and he had the perfect thing to rub it in. Pulling his own green and silver scarf from his neck, he held it out to Hermione. She looked so pretty standing there, the tips of her ears red from the cold, and her cheeks and the tip of her nose were blushed too. Something in him wanted to pull her to him and keep her warm, but he wouldn't allow himself to, not with such a large audience. Instead, he allowed himself to step forward and touch his lips to hers, even if it was only a momentary distraction so he could tug off her scarf and replace it with his. She would wear his colours. That would be another stab to Potter and Weasley. And maybe, if she accepted it, he would feel a little more brave.  
  
Hermione accepted his kiss, enjoying the way it made her tingle and her skin flush warm. But at the same time, she felt more than uncomfortable. He replaced her Gryffindor scarf with his Slytherin. And she didn't stop him. When he did step back again she dropped her eyes to the stiff grass. "Draco," she began, but after a moment, let drop. She didn't know what to say. From anyone else it would have been a very touching gesture, but not from him. If she wore his scarf, she could not stand with her fellow Gryffindors. She could not stand with the Slytherins either. She would be out of place no matter where she stood, or who she cheered on. Because maybe she did want to cheer on Draco, but she couldn't, because she had Harry to cheer for.   
  
Hermione had found herself at the base of one of the audience stands, watching the players zoom around above her. It made her a little queasy, she had never really watched from this angle. But she could still keep track of who was who. She had seem both teams play so many times, she knew each person by how they moved. There was Harry, darting about on his broom, scanning for the snitch, he always was so immersed in quidditch he never thought of anything else. Until someone reminded him. A lazy green player drifted up along side Harry. She knew it was Draco. She knew he would be taunting Harry, all the while using the time to search for the snitch himself.  
  
Then something happened Hermione didn't expect. Harry jerked around on his broom and hit Draco. No, not just hit, nailed would be a better term. Before she could blink in astonishment Draco was falling from his broom, his robes billowing out behind him as he sailed gracefully to the ground, landing with a not so elegant thump. People were screaming "Foul!" all over, but more people drowned those out with "Way to go Harry!" and the like.  
  
Hermione was frozen, clutching Draco's scarf. Should she run to him, or should she go to Harry, who had landed with Madam Hooch's beckoning of him. He looked furious, some of his teammates had descended with him and were physically holding him back from finishing Draco off.  
  
Draco didn't seem too badly off. He was wincing, but sitting up as some professors looked him over. He was more intent on sending murderous glares to Harry. That settled it for Hermione. With a gasp in of cold air for courage, she hurried onto the pitch and to Harry's side. Reaching her hand out, she opened her moth and spoke the first syllable of his name when he swung his head around to her.  
  
"You," he hissed so vehemently that she actually shrank back from him, "don't ever speak to me again."His eyes darted to the scarf around her neck, and his hand tightened around the handle of his broom, the squeak of his leather gloves thundered in her ears. And with that he tossed off all the hands holding him back with a fierce shrug and stomped out of the stadium.   
  
Hermione still had her hand out. She didn't know what to do, no commands from her brain to drop her hand would connect. Nothing would connect. Nothing was right. She vaguely saw the rest of the Gryffindors staring at her dumbly, and one mass of red hair approaching her. For the briefest moment she thought it was Ron, until something collided with the side of her face and everything flared into clarity. It was Ginny. Her face was almost as red as her hair, and she was stooped as if expecting to be struck by an oncoming train.  
  
"How dare you!" she screeched, drawing everyone's attention, even the Slytherins hushed and turned to watch.  
  
Hermione's hand had finally moved, though now she held it to her stinging cheek. She tried to croak out something, she didn't even know what she was going to say, but Ginny opened her rant.  
  
"How dare you do this to Harry and Ron! They love you! How could you betray them? How could you do this to Ron? He's been in love with you for years! What the hell do you think you're doing? Is this some sick sort of revenge on him for never having the courage to tell you how he felt? I thought you were smart Hermione, but I was wrong. You're just another stupid girl falling for the bad boy charm. Hermione, you're the stupidest person I've ever known."   
  
Hermione could see tears glistening in Ginny's eyes. Why would she cry? And then it hit her. Hermione finally understood. She had not only betrayed her best friends, she had betrayed her house, she had betrayed everyone who had ever believed in her. She had betrayed herself. She couldn't look at Ginny. Pulling her gaze off to the side, Hermione found herself looking down at a pair of boots and the bottom of green robes. Something inside of her crumbled. And a wave of pure rage swept up from behind that broken wall. She did not yell, she did not reach out with her fists or her wand. She simply removed the green and silver scarf from her neck and placed it in his hands. "I went along with this on the assumption you would hold to our deal. Our deal that if I played the part of your lover, you would not harm my friends. But now I understand. You were hurting them all along. But you were using me to do it. You were attacking them with what would hurt them most. Me. I will not stand for it anymore, Draco Malfoy. You are nothing, you thrive on hatred. You are nothing." nothing had ever come out of her like that before. Her words slid out off her tongue like liquid, but the hatred seared every ear that heard her speak, and the final admittance of the truth brought whispers and murmurs from the crowd.  
  
Silent, steady strides carried her away from the crowd. She did not turn, even when the people finally roared with comprehension. She only knew she had to find Harry. Whatever Draco had said to him, she would somehow explain away. She had to. And maybe after she made him understand, she could find with him the strength to approach Ron. 


	6. Landslide

I don't own any rights to Harry Potter, I did not creature any of the characters, place names (cept for London and Yorkshire and Kings Cross, I didn't create those either, but neither did JK Rowling) or magic spells or any other things, you all know JK Rowling did. Worship her as I do.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Harry? Harry, please, don't run away from me! Whatever Draco said it was a lie! Harry, please!" Hermione was jogging around up and down the staircases, hoping she could find Harry. No one responded, expect for Peeves who cackled from the ceiling and was about to throw a book at her, but Hermione absently raised her wand, and muttering a few words, set the book to beating him upside the head.  
  
With that distraction gone, Hermione found her way up to the hallway of the Gryffindor tower.   
  
"Oh my, Hermione, what's going on? Harry's absolutely livid!" the Fat Lady was squirming in her frame, torn between concern and excitement over the new gossip.  
  
Hermione jerked around from peering off down towards a hallway of unused classrooms when the painting spoke. "Nevermind. Balthazar." Hermione snapped out the password and pulled herself into the hole behind.  
  
Harry hadn't even put away his broom. He was in front of her, facing away into the fire. The dancing flames cast a strange silhouette around his blood red robes. His shoulder were held unnaturally straight, and he still wore even his gloves.   
  
"Harry?" she spoke very quietly, suddenly aware of how much he had grown. He was not anything like the skinny eleven year old boy she had first met. She had never been aware how strong he actually was, not until now. He scared her, especially when his shoulders twitched when she said his name.  
  
Inhaling deeply to find her courage, Hermione approached him. Her hands wrought together infront of her as she stood beside him, staring into the flames. For a while they just stood in silence, in the shadows, trying to find comfort by just being there together as friends, though troubled.  
  
It was Harry who spoke first. His voice rasped softer than the crackling of the burning wood, but she heard every breath he took. "I know you never wanted to hurt us, Hermione. I know he was making you. I was never angry with you. I hate him. And I hate myself for not being able to protect you, for not seeing you needed help. I hate myself for not protecting you, for not stepping between you and taking whatever he could throw at me. I hate myself for being afraid of him."  
  
Hermione remained quiet, though the flames had blurred with the tears in her eyes. Harry felt like it was his fault. Some part of her wanted him to take the blame, maybe it would stop the empty feeling inside of her. But no, she knew better than that. "I wasn't strong enough to stand up for myself, Harry, how could you have known I needed help, when I wouldn't even admit it to myself?" How could I have enjoyed how he touched me? She wanted to ask him, but kept it only in her mind. Slouching against Harry, Hermione was relieved when he didn't shrink back, when instead he settled his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of her head.   
  
"He didn't ever...?" Harry started, his voice cracking as he tried to force the question out.  
  
Hermione shook her head. Harry didn't need to know details. "No, Harry. I'm all right, now." Her own voice was faint as she struggled within herself to put the rage that bubbled up inside of her away for another time. Right now she had her best friend with her, and she had never felt safer.   
  
Soon they could hear voices outside, and the portrait swinging open. Harry and Hermione had settled in to one of the sofas and were absently petting Crookshanks, who had settled between them. It was a comfortable scene there before the fire, Hermione wished it would stay like that for just a little longer. But once they had been spotted, the talking began.  
  
"You should have seen it!" Lavender rushed over, tugging at Hermione's robes, "Ron came over and decked Draco, they started fighting! No wands, or anything, just fighting! It was amazing. They're both in the hospital wing now, all bloodied up, but it was cool."  
  
"Hagrid broke it up! But Malfoy got it worse, Hagrid made sure he only stopped them before Draco could get Ron good. I got pictures!" Colin was jumping up and down, clutching his camera.  
  
"It was wicked!" Seamus chimed in. "McGonagall told me to tell you to two go see her at once, then you can go see Ron, too."  
  
Harry and Hermione were looking at each other. Ron, fight Draco? With just his fists? Draco was obviously stronger, but then again, they both new how Ron could get when he was angry. Rising from the sofa, they both shuffled past the crowd of excited Gryffindors and headed out towards McGonagall's office, first walking quickly, then jogging, then at an all out run.  
  
McGonagall met them outside her door. She was looking flushed, and the crease of her lips was the thinnest Harry and Hermione had ever seen it. She gave them both very sharp looks and cleared her throat. "We have all heard the rumours by now, Hermione. But before I take any action, I want to hear it straight from you."  
  
Hermione tensed immediately. This was not something she would feel comfortable telling anyone, especially professor McGonagall. Harry didn't ask for specifics. She almost wanted to turn and ask him to leave, but she couldn't, not when he layed a comforting hand on her shoulder and forced himself to try and smile at her. Nodding slowly, Hermione drew her eyes back to the professor. "Draco approached... No, he cornered me that night Harry and Ron slept in my dorm. He, ah..." Hermione trailed off, feeling every inch of her skin burn with shame. She wanted to shrink back, to just walk away from it all, but she knew she couldn't do it. She had tried, and it had solved nothing. "He kissed me. I didn't want him to. He threatened that if I didn't do whatever he wanted he would hurt Harry and Ron."  
  
McGonagall's cheeks drained of any colour, and her lips pursed even more tightly, if that was possible. Once again she looked like she was fighting with herself to reach out to Hermione, and to ack professionally. Harry made the decision for her when his hand tightened on Hermione's shoulder and he moved closer. Hermione had someone to protect her now.  
  
"Did Malfoy force you to do anything... Did he make you..." McGonagall couldn't seem to force it out either, she was spluttering over the words with her own barely contained rage.  
  
Hermione once again shook her head. "No, professor." Somehow, it seemed easier this time. Maybe because she had already told Harry, the person she feared would take it the worst. Other than Ron, anyways. She knew she had to tell him, part of her wanted to run the other way, out of the castle and find her way home to the solace her parents and the muggle world could give her, but the rest of her knew she had to face him, she owed him that.  
  
McGonagall nodded, looking very much relieved. "You know then, there is not much of a chance he will be expelled." This obviously displeased her very much, but she also knew it was out of her hands. As emotionally traumatic as the whole incident was to the three children, there was nothing really 'wrong' done. Severus would not expel Malfoy for it, and Dumbledore would probably love to, but it was not his decision. It would have been easier if Draco had forced himself on Granger, but at the same time McGonagall was extremely alleviated that he had not. "All right then, off with you, go see Weasley. Tell Poppy I said you were allowed if she makes a fuss."  
  
Harry responded for the both of them, and steered Hermione towards the hospital wing. She seemed to have stiffened up even more, but he could understand that. Talking to Ron would be very difficult, especially with Malfoy around. Hopefully had was knocked out. If not, Harry was seriously considering if anyone would notice him holding a pillow over Malfoy's face.  
  
The walked through the hallways in silence, no one approached them, not even Peeves, he still seemed afraid of Hermione. Once he had seen them he cackled, though this was a nervous sound, and had zoomed off through a wall. Harry didn't even seem to notice.  
  
When they arrived at the doors to the Hospital wing, Harry finally released her shoulder. He saw Hermione inhale deeply, and trailed behind her when she mustered up enough courage and stepped through the doors.  
  
Madame Pomfrey glanced at them from where she was leaning over a (thankfully) unconcious Malfoy. She darted her eyes to where Ron sat in his bed, glaring out a window.  
  
Harry hung back while Hermione approached Ron. He wanted to stand with her, to show Ron he still believed in her, but Ron had to forgive her himself. Obviously he knew now that it wasn't Hermione's fault, but still. Harry himself was still angry with her. He knew he would be for a long time, but he had forgiven her. Hopefully Ron would, too.  
  
"Ron?" Hermione squeaked out as she paused at the foot of his bed. He slowly turned to look at her. His face was swollen, he had a large cut over his eyebrow. And he was crying. Streaks that had already dried had cut a path through the dirt and blood down his cheeks. His eyes seemed strange. Distant. It took a moment for him to focus on her, and when he finally did realize Hermione was standing there, he slumped down, hiding his face in his hands.  
  
Hermione dropped down on the edge of his bed and very carefully touched his knee. "Ron, I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. But I did. I was too afraid of him to make him stop. I know you might not forgive me, but I hope you'll at least understand."  
  
Ron slowly raised his head. His eyes peirced right through her, made her breath catch in her throat. "He didn't make you sleep with him, did he?" His voice was cold and very blunt, he sounded as if he were on the edge of something, and he wanted her to either pull him back, or push him over.  
  
Hermione dropped her eyes down to her lap. Why did everyone keep asking her that? Curling her fingers in her robes, she slowly shook her head. "He didn't... force me." she admitted in a tiny voice. 


	7. Don't Know Why

I don't own any rights to Harry Potter, I did not creature any of the characters, place names (cept for London and Yorkshire and Kings Cross, I didn't create those either, but neither did JK Rowling) or magic spells or any other things, you all know JK Rowling did. Worship her as I do.  
  
Yes, Iactually wrote more of this! Yay! Don't know how long this will last, but, I'll write while I have the urge.  
  
Ron had twitched intensely, his face darting up so his eyes could bore into her. It made her want to squirm, his eyes felt like they were digging right through her, it was physically painful. But she held on desperately to every ounce of strength she had, and kept her head up. "I never should have let him. I'm so sorry, Ron, you have no idea how it makes me feel. I want to peel my own skin off. I, ..." she trailed off, her hands clutched so tightly together she didn't notice her nails biting painfully into her palms until she spoke. She did feel like hurting herself, anything, just to replace the feeling of him against her skin. Against her will, tears welled up in her eyes. "Ron, I never wanted to, but he, he made it feel so good and I couldn't think and it just happened and I wish it never had, I can't forget how it feels, I want to, it makes me sick." she croaked out, ignoring the fact her shoulders were shaking, her nose was running and that Ron was looking at her in a way she just didn't understand.  
  
Ron felt numb. The throbbing in his head was so distant it didn't even register. All that did was Hermione, his Hermione, sobbing and losing all control right beside him. Hermione, losing control. It wasn't right. Somehow, her whimpers cut through his fury, something in his chest was expanding. He could feel tears fighting at the back of his eyes, too. Hermione needed him, she had come to him. That mattered more than anything. Thrusting his hands out, he grabbed her a little more roughly than he meant to, but it didn't seem to matter as she clutched his robes, curling up in his lap, hiding her face against his neck. He had never held her like this, and even considering the circumstances, it felt right.  
  
Hermione let a long breath shudder out when Ron took her into his arms. So maybe he hadn't forgiven her, he still cared, and that was all that mattered. Ron holding her, and Harry settling in beside them to just sit. Her tears soon stopped, but she did not let go. She was too comfortable having the two people she loved most just being there with her, knowing that as angry as they were, they could put that past them and just be there.  
  
Sometime during the night Madam Pomfrey ushered Hermione and Harry out of the hospital wing. She had put curtains around Draco's bed, but they still knew he was there. Harry held her very close to him the whole walk back to the tower, and even suggested that if she didn't want to be alone, he'd stay with her again.  
  
But Hermione refused. She felt very light and empty, but somehow in a nice way. Like everything would be okay, especially after a good long sleep. Harry needed it too, so she shoved him off towards his dorm before trudging her way up to hers. She didn't even bother to change her robes, she just fell right into bed, very grateful Lavender, Parvati and the other girls were long asleep. She knew they would have questions, was she okay, what was it like having sex? Hermione mulled over which they would ask first. She used to think she was different than most other girls her age, that she was impervious to men and the stupid way people wasted their time together.  
  
But Draco had proved her wrong. She did not blame him, not completely. Because he hadn't seemed himself when he had touched her so lightly, when he seemed to give just as much as he took, how he... No! Hermione rolled over, shoving her face into her pillow. That didn't matter anymore, it never had mattered. Draco didn't matter. It seemed like a long time, she just lay there in the dark, listening to the familiar sounds of the people sleeping around her.   
  
She didn't know exactly when she fell asleep, when reality had slid into dreams, nor did she remember the dreams when she finally woke. And yet, something remained with her from those dreams, a feeling she couldn't shake. A feeling that even though Ron was now holding her hand and smiling at her as he talked, she could still see the distance in his eyes, and something told her these eyes were not the ones she wanted to get lost in.  
  
She felt strangely numb the next morning, everything was distant. She changed her robes, gathered up her school books, and trumped down the stairs from the dormitory to the common room. Everyone's voices hushed at her appearance, some people shifted away from her, but through them Harry emerged. He looked very grim, and under his normally bright eyes there were large black circles. Obviously, he had not slept.  
  
Without a word he put his arm around her back, leading her to the portrait hole. Eyes followed them, though no one knew what to say, or if they should say anything at all. Ginny was sitting in a corner, trying very hard to focus on her book, though Hermione saw Ginny's eyes were not moving, and her mouth was very tight indeed. Slumping her shoulders, Hermione crawled through the hole, clutching her book bag very tightly.  
  
"Should we, I mean, would it be all right if we went and saw Ron?" she squeaked out to Harry, who was glaring down the hallway where some students were already wandering. He reminded her of a watchdog, the way his eyes darted around at every sound, how he stood just a little infront of her. But also a little away. When he nodded his assent and put his arm around her again to lead her away, she noticed he was slightly stiff, and his hand didn't close very tightly around her robes. Hermione couldn't blame him. She didn't want to be in her own skin as it was, she wouldn't blame Harry if he never wanted to touch her again. But he was trying to get past it, he was being a friend. And that made her just comfortable enough to walk down the corridors with him, even though she kept her eyes down and did her very best to ignore the looks from the professors and students alike who passed them.  
  
The whole walk to the infirmary Hermione payed very close attention to her shoes. One had a scuff mark on it, and her robes seemed to be just a little bit too short for her taste. She could feel Harry beside her, he tensed up every few moments, sometimes cleared his throat at people who were looking at them too strangely, though to her it sounded more like a growl than anything.  
  
Finally they came to the double doors that were covered in posters and pamphlets about remedies and warnings about illnesses and accidents. About level with her ankles was one about "A broomstick is an accident waiting to happen." Harry pushed the doors open and led her inside.   
  
Finally, she raised her eyes. Through the narrow windows light streamed through. The curtains that had been around Draco's bed were pushed back into a corner now. Despite herself, Hermione glanced to where he had been the night before. The bed was made, and he was gone. Something inside of her loosened, and her shoulders relaxed as she passed her eyes over to Ron. He had been in the middle of tying his shoelace, but now he was looking at her strangely, she was sure he had seen her look to Draco's bed first. Something in Ron's cheek had twitched, and his jaw was set, but he seemed to shrug it off, or at least to shrug it away for the moment.  
  
"Transfiguration after breakfast, isn't it?" he commented innocently, checking his school bag. Apparently someone had brought him his books earlier, though whomever it was he didn't say. "Should we go to breakfast?" Ron asked, though his voice was slower and quieter this time. He shared a look with Harry, and they both looked to Hermione.  
  
Her hands tightened on her bag, but she nodded. She would not hide, she would not pretend it didn't happen. Besides, she knew somewhere under the lead weight in her stomach she was hungry.  
  
Well, at least one thing would never change. People would always stare at Harry where ever he went. Normally he would just brush it off, but now he was more on edge because of it than he ever had been. Maybe because these whispers were of something that struck him even deeper than his relationship with Voldemort. Maybe because those whispers, and those eyes now included the two people he cared most for in the clicks of their tongues.   
  
Hermione was comforted by the way Harry walked beside her, his hand floating just at her back, ready to give her a touch of comfort or to pull her from any danger. Even Ron stood tall to her other side, though he seemed more ready for battle than to protect her.  
  
But she did not want protection. She wanted to try her hardest to get past this incident. She had so much to do. Halloween was approaching quickly, and she wanted to give her input on the decorations, and she hadn't even started on the treat bags she wanted to give to the house elves. She would have asked Harry and Ron to help, but she doubted they would be in the spirits to wrap packages of chocolate frogs in sparkling orange paper.  
  
The great hall was much quieter than Hermione expected it to be. Some people cast glances towards them, but it seemed the stern faces of the professors at the head table, especially the solemness of professor Dumbledore kept everyone from bursting out with their whispered conspiracies.   
  
"Look!" Ron reached around Hermione to poke Harry in the side. "Malfoy's not here! Last night Snape came to see him and took him away, I couldn't hear what was said. Maybe he was expelled!" Even the inclination of his voice did not contain much satisfaction, nor did the replying grunt from Harry. Expulsion was not the punishment they had in mind.  
  
Hermione made a noise in her throat, but her eyes still remained on her shoes. She had not looked up in fear of seeing him, but somehow his absence seemed to stab rather painfully in her stomach as well. What could that mean? Maybe some part of her had enjoyed their private time together, maybe Draco's shield had weakened just enough for something gentle to escape. Maybe she was being a hopeful idiot who was just wishing some good into what was a horrible situation. Whatever the case, she wanted to know where he was. If he was expelled, good. If he was still here, somehow, somewhere, she would find out what did happen to him. She was, after all, Head Girl. She was allowed into the student records office. She would just go tonight, then. She was supposed to wander the halls, punishing anyone outside their common rooms after hours. Harry and Ron could not come with her. They would not let go easily, but she would make them.  
  
"I guess he was, then. Good riddance." she stated, rather hollowly, and settled in to shovel food into her mouth.  
  
Harry glanced at her sideways, but seemed content with her tone. Hermione had always been strong, maybe without him around she would recover quickly. Turning away from her, he called down the table to Parvati about the next quidditch practice. Ron perked up at that, and there was a scramble of people and clinking plates to rearrange the seating so the team could converse. They all seemed very grateful for a distraction from the uneasy conversations.  
  
Hermione found Neville beside her now, looking at her rather oddly. "What is it? Did I get some eggs on my face?" she asked, as innocently as she could. But Neville, perhaps better than even Harry and Ron, saw right through her.  
  
"You do care about him. Malfoy." he said plainly, quietly.   
  
Hermione blinked, taken completely aback at his directness. "I... Neville... I don't know how I feel." She really didn't. She could not explain it to herself, not even to Harry or Ron, how in the world could she, or why would she even explain it to Neville?  
  
Neville leaned forward, chubby cheeks taunt in seriousness. "Hermione, if there is any good in him, I know you can find it. You just have to decide if it's worth hurting so many people just to make one good man."  
  
With that, Neville stood, book bag in hand, and left. Hermione gaped openly at the wisdom Neville had just imparted. How was it that such a dim boy could surprise her the most so many times? Slouching back, Hermione ignored her plate and sunk her chin into her hand. Neville was right. Was Draco really worth all the trouble, all the pain? Was she, in some way, trying to find some way to redeem him? And how stupid was she, really? Of course she would love to believe that there was no real 'evil' in the world, but that very obviously not the case. Could Draco end up like Voldemort? So bitter and hurt, so hateful that he would spite the whole world? Was she just the beginning?  
  
Lost in her thoughts, Hermione allowed herself to be led around for the day by Harry and Ron, occasionally straying from her daze to attempt some form of normalcy. She even raised her hand in potions, and Snape, perhaps feeling pity, or just a conflict within himself, confirmed her answer without a battle. Or perhaps he noticed her eyes wander to Draco's vacant post and found some sort of emotion in her gaze that he recognized?   
  
By the end of the day, Hermione had reached a decision. Neville was right. Draco had opened up to her, if only a sliver. If she could do anything for him, it was her obligation to try. Or to kill him, that was the if/or decision the mingled emotions her heart had come to. Yes, her heart. Her mind could find no logic in anything, and had conceded dominion to her heart. 


	8. Take a Look at Me Now

I don't own any rights to Harry Potter, I did not creature any of the characters, place names (cept for London and Yorkshire and Kings Cross, I didn't create those either, but neither did JK Rowling) or magic spells or any other things, you all know JK Rowling did. Worship her as I do.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Really, Hermione, Hogwarts will be fine for one night without you." Ginny insisted, twisting her legs under her on the sofa.   
  
Most of the students had headed up to bed already, it was quite late. The fire in the common room hearth had dwindled, but the house elves would not come and tend to it while the group of students remained awake.  
  
Hermione forced what she hoped was a comforting smile. "I wouldn't be able to sleep anyways. I'm so far behind on my homework as it is. I'll make a round or two of the halls, and then I'll come right back. And you don't need to worry about me." Ron was watching her with pursed lips, his hands kneading together in his lap. They'd been at this argument for all most an hour now, and Hermione was growing weary.  
  
"Hermione, if you'd just left Ron or I come with you..." Harry trailed off, knowing he had repeated himself too many times now as it was.  
  
Letting out a deep sigh, Hermione gripped the over stuffed arms of her chair and pushed herself to her feet. "I have neglected my duties as Head Girl. Wait up for me if you want, but if I catch you out in the halls I will have no choice but to take points from Gryffindor."  
  
Four pairs of eyes followed her to the portrait hole. Harry and Ron looked very upset, but Ginny, sitting between them, had a hand on each of them, holding them back by their knee caps. They exchanged looks with each other before turning angry, but defeated eyes on Hermione. Ginny herself looked very calm, all most as if she knew Hermione needed the time alone to settle some things. And then there was Neville. Hermione had paused, one knee up in the hole, when she locked eyes with him. He had a faded smile on his lips, Hermione did not doubt at all that Neville new she was leaving to clear more than her head. Ever since she had met him and his parents in St. Mungos, she knew he understood the human heart more than anyone could really understand. He loved his parents despite their insanity, and she knew that he could be sure that somewhere deep inside his parents, they still loved him. Love was a strange thing that could breech so many walls.  
  
Even ones as strong as Draco's. Maybe he did love her, maybe he was just that good at pretending. She had an anger gnawing at her stomach, she needed to understand. Or for it to end. If he had left Hogwarts, it would be over. Not a satisfying ending, for sure, but at least it would be over. But then somewhere in her chest heaved against those thoughts of finality. She didn't know what to do or what to think, but she couldn't just leave it be. She itched to see him again.   
  
Thrusting herself through the portrait hall to escape more herself than her friends, Hermione fled down the hall, her own footfalls lost to her ears. She wished that someone could just tell her the answer to this, that here was a book buried in the library that could satisfy her questions. But she knew there wasn't. This she had to figure out on her own.  
  
The portrait that opened to the student records was fairly inconspicious on the third floor. An old wizard was loaded up with scrolls and books, some had spilled from his arms and lay scattered at his feet. Hermione watched him in his eternal; and hopeless struggle to gather everything in his arms for a moment before she cleared her throat, lifting her shoulders to stand straight.  
  
He looked up from stuffing scrolls into his pockets and blinked at her suspiciously, before carefully asking "Password?"  
  
Hermione glanced around her for a moment before speaking "Demosthenes" quietly. The portrait nodded and it swung open to allow her into the wing. Closing the hidden door behind her, Hermione was absently impressed how the room practically took up no more space than a broom cupboard until someone was actually inside. Then it took up nearly as much area as the library. Records of every student to ever attend Hogwarts over the hundreds of years sat in books piled on to and around shelves.  
  
Luckily, she did not need to go searching through every book. Stepping around to a large desk with one book settled in the middle of the otherwise vacant surface, Hermione sat down on to the edge of the stool and leaned over the book. "Malfoy, Draco." she spoke to it, watching it glow slightly.  
  
When the light had faded, she opened the cover to find an image of Draco gracing the first page with brief information about his parents, date of birth and area of study. The picture was glaring up at her, angry that someone like her was viewing his personal records.  
  
She watched him glower at her for a moment before she flipped the page. His first year grades were listed along with brief write ups from each professor. On the page following that were a list of incidents he had been involved in that year, Hermione say her own name glowing along with Harry's and Ron's. She knew if she read any glowing name aloud the book would transform into their records, but that wasn't what she wanted.  
  
She sifted through more and more pages until she reached his seventh year page. All his grades were currently blank, and there were, as of yet, no comments about his performance. Sucking in a breath, Hermione glanced around the stiffly silent room. She knew she was doing something completely against the rules, and it was never easy for her. She also knew that when she turned the page all of what had happened to her would be written up. As well as what had happened to Draco after the fight.  
  
She could feel the texture of the old parchment as she ran her finger along it, slowly pushing the paper away so it flipped over of it's own accord.  
  
Draco Malfoy has exhibited the most extreme form of maliciousness seen in Hogwarts for decades, it began. It went on, describing, gratefully, only the public acts between he and Hermione that had been witnessed. As it is, no formal compliant has been lodged by miss Hermione Granger or on behalf of her wishes, so we have no option other than to let Mr. Malfoy remain in attendance until circumstances prescribe otherwise. it finished.  
  
Hermione leaned back on the stool, bracing her hands on the edge for support. So he was still here, but had been hiding. He was probably mortified, some part of Hermione found sympathy for him. All though outwardly, a satisfied smile spread across her lips. "Good, maybe he knows how I feel." she said to herself, watching the candles burn on the chandelier above her.  
  
"What do you feel?"  
  
Hermione yelped, her foot kicking involuntarily, sending the reference book sliding across the floor. She leapt from the stool to face him.  
  
How she had missed him, she couldn't know. He was always so good at sneaking around, finding her whenever he could take a moment of her time for himself. But this was different. There was no welcome in how he stood in front of the door, as tall and forbearing as she had ever seen him. His arms were crossed over his chest, he looked very dishevelled and ... lost? He wore no cloak, his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His tie was loose around his neck, his collar was sticking up into his hair. And his hair, it was a mess. She had never seen him looking anything but perfect. His eyes were dark and tired, and even in the dim light she could see an ugly bruise on his cheek.  
  
"Draco?"  
  
"I said, what do you feel?" he said, more force behind his voice now. "What could a mudblood like you possibly feel that would be anything like what I feel?"  
  
"You actually have feelings?" she countered acidly, but then winced at her tone as it came out. No, he didn't know how she felt. This was all a game to him, wasn't it? He didn't care about her, he didn't love her. She was just stupid. Her skin bristled as she stepped towards him, intent on the door. She had been a prat to think that he cared, and had been a fool to care for him. How could she have forgotten the tone he would speak to her in, the way he turned his nose up at her? Even in their most intimate moments there had been an absence to him, but she had tried to deny it.  
  
Hermione reached for the door handle, thinking she would just leave. Leave it all as it was, maybe it would just fade away. She certainly couldn't talk to him. He wasn't going to let her just walk away, though. His hand snaked around her wrist and shoved her forward, Hermione's chin thumped against the door painfully as he twisted her arm around against her back. She was pinned with her face against the door. "Draco, let go of me!"   
  
He was standing against her, his long legs holding her in place. His knees pressed into the back of her thighs. She had never forgotten how he felt so close to her, how much bigger than her he was. But this felt nothing like that night. There was no comforting warmth between them now.   
  
His cheek resting against the back of her head, he could never get enough of the smell of apples in her hair and skin. "I asked you what you felt, Hermione. Answer me." his voice was flat and low as he dragged his free hand through her hair, never gentle as his fingers ripped through the little tangles in her curls.   
  
Her scalp was hurting, but not nearly as much as her arm. The muscled burned from being twisted unnaturally, she was breathing heavily through grit teeth against the pain. "I feel betrayed. I feel violated, I feel like a complete git!" she snapped at him, her knees failing her as she squirmed against his grip.  
  
Draco pushed her arm upwards, Hermione cried out and rose to her toes, trying to ease the pressure. Draco slipped his hand to her cheek, ignoring the wetness slicking her skin. He was hurting her, he was making her cry. Good. Releasing her arm, he turned her to face him. Her brown eyes were wide, but she wasn't scared. He'd never seen such rage in her before, nor so much sadness. She was unashamed of her tears, and in that moment he finally realized he didn't understand her. He thought he had, she was just a stupid mudblood after all, wasn't she?  
  
But no, she wasn't. She did feel. She felt just as strongly as he did. His breath had caught in his throat as he stared at her. 


End file.
